


Perish the Thought

by SayQueso (TooGoodToBeBad)



Series: AU? Yeah, You! [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, But not theirs don't worry, F/M, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Post-Break Up, Sylvain has poor dietary choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooGoodToBeBad/pseuds/SayQueso
Summary: Ingrid deals with a break up. Sylvain deals with inconvenient feelings.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: AU? Yeah, You! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979576
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Perish the Thought

Sylvain had everything he needed for a perfect Friday night: slices of leftover meat supreme pizza reheated to perfection in the toaster oven he bought specifically for reheating pizza, ranch dressing for the slices of meat supreme pizza reheated to perfection, a tall glass of cream soda, and a documentary about how bongos were made queued up on the TV. 

Before he could take the first bite, the door to his apartment clicked open and Ingrid stepped in. With a frown, he put the plate on the coffee table and checked his watch. It wasn’t even 9pm. 

“You’re here early,” he called out, distinctly remembering that she mentioned that morning that she’d be back late.

She started at the sound of his voice before turning her head towards the couch he was seated on. “And you’re here,” she replied flatly before crossing her arms across her chest. “It’s Friday night. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

As her green eyes studied him warily, he racked his brain, trying to remember if he’d made any plans aside from watching a bongo documentary. “I don’t think so?” he said hesitantly and absent-mindedly scratched behind his ear. 

“Ohh,” she mumbled softly. “Okay, then. So how was work?”

That set off a warning siren in his head. Ingrid never, not once in her life, asked him about work. In fact, the moment she stepped in, he could already sense something was off. She hadn’t commented on the things she usually did, such as her constant bewilderment at his wearing a watch at home (despite the number of times he’d explained it was a “beater watch” and that he only wore his nicer watches when he went out), or the borderline obscene amount of ranch dressing slathered on his pizza (to her, any amount of ranch was an obscene amount). She didn’t even mention the bongo documentary. Something wasn’t right.

“Ingrid,” his eyebrows pinched together in a curious expression. “Do you even know what I do for work?”

“You work with Dimitri, don’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, but that doesn’t really narrow it down. I could be the guy who sits in the parking lot all day and collects tickets, for all you know.”

“Fine, then,” she huffed indignantly as she plopped down beside him. “What do you do?”

“I’m an analyst in the risk management department.”

“Oh, that sounds cool. What’s it like?” she replied with what he could only assume was feigned enthusiasm.

With a sigh, he picked up the remote and paused the TV. “Ingrid,” he said softly. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong. Is it so bad that I’m interested in the details-”

“Ingrid,” he said a bit more firmly. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Her face fell at his words, and something within her shattered. A momentary sense of panic raced through his mind, and he briefly wondered if he had anything to do with whatever was troubling her. 

“Ashe and I, we broke up,” her voice was even, betraying no emotion whatsoever. “Just a while ago, actually.”

Oh. Out of all the things he was prepared to hear, this was not one of them. What a shame, too. He quite liked Ashe, who always wore sensible button-up shirts and was sweet, polite, honest, and nerdy about all the same things Ingrid was. Sylvain was not looking forward to all the dirty looks and subtle threats he’d have to send his way down the road.

“But you guys were rock solid,” Sylvain began, preparing for a monologue he was in no way, shape, or form ready for. “Ashe is a dumbass if he thinks-”

“It’s not like that,” she cut him off with a low mutter. “I was the one who ended things.”

“Ohh,” he mumbled as the carefully selected words of inspiration and self-esteem he had on his mind died in his throat. “Do you wanna talk about it or nah?”

She took several deep breaths before speaking - another warning sign that she was absolutely not okay. “We both kind of knew it was coming, so at least I can’t say I was caught off-guard. Do you remember Caspar?”

Sylvain most certainly did not remember Caspar, but he wanted to avoid a lengthy discussion about who or what Caspar was, so he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head, signalling for her to continue.

“They’re friends from high school, the two of them. Anyway, Caspar finally got his whole deal in Brigid set up, and he wanted Ashe to join him. This was his dream,” her voice softened. “And the last thing I want is to get in the way of someone else’s dream.”

He instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him, the urge to keep her safe taking over his brain. A strangled sob clawed its way out of her throat as she rested her head on his shoulder, and his senses were invaded by the faint smell of peppermint shampoo. “He wanted to try something long-distance, but I knew we’d both be unhappy with that down the line. I didn’t want to be the reason he’d be miserable over there. I can’t do that to him; I just can’t.”

With an almost automatic motion, he shifted to face her. Her emerald eyes blinked slowly at him before she let out another sob and fell into him. As she buried her face against his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring embrace. He hadn’t realized how dim the lighting in the apartment was, but it seemingly made him hyper-aware of everything else around him, from every hitch and quiver in her breath, to the way the tears fell from her eyes and onto his shirt, to the way his warmth seemed to bleed into her, to the way the scent of peppermint seemed to follow her everywhere she went. He could even hear his own heartbeat in their silence.

“What if that was it, Sylvain?” she breathed. “What if that was my one chance at something more, and I just threw it away?”

“Shh, don’t say that,” he murmured as he idly twirled loose strands of her blonde hair with his finger. “I don’t think it works like that, Ingrid. If we were only given one shot at that... well, I’m in for a rough ride. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for _something more_. Goddess knows I’ve wasted plenty.”

She let out a fragile laugh that almost broke his heart when he heard it. “Besides,” he trailed off, walking on eggshells to find the right words to say. “You guys wanted different things. Do _you_ want to go to Brigid?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Exactly. Listen, it hurts now, and it’ll suck for the next few days. But you’ll get through this, Ingrid. You’re one of the strongest people I know, both physically and emotionally,” he pulled back and gave her a warm smile. “I’ve got some ice cream. Do you want some ice cream?”

She nodded glumly, and he got up from the couch to walk to the refrigerator. He reached into the freezer, grasping for the pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream he kept hidden behind a box of Hot Pockets and a bag of pizza rolls. Once he got it (and a clean spoon as well), he plopped back down beside her. He wordlessly handed her the pint before picking up his plate full of pizza (which had cooled down considerably, not that he minded) and leaning back. As the bongo documentary started playing on TV and he took his first bite of pizza, he could feel her nestling against him in a way that sent jolts down his spine. The tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips refused to go away.

The two of them ate in companionable silence, all while Sylvain was only half paying attention to the TV. Being this close to her was not uncommon (given that they were childhood friends and currently roommates), but in the moment, something felt different. He wasn’t above hitting on women who’d just gotten out of relationships, but with Ingrid-

 _No_ , he thought to himself. _She’s going through something right now. Don’t be an ass._

“Ingrid,” he whispered as he watched the light from the TV dance against her features. “Lorenz from whisky club gave me this bottle of honey-vanilla whisky, and-”

“I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.”

“Sure sure, was just a suggestion. But do you wanna step out of the apartment and do anything?”

“Like what?”

“Anything you want,” he breathed. “We could go to that diner you like, get Monte Cristos and potato pancakes and cheese fries.”

She shook her head somberly at his words, and he tried to ignore the uneasy pang in his heart as he watched her wipe tears from her eyes. “We could go bowling,” he suggested.

“But you hate bowling,” she sniffled.

That wasn’t necessarily true - what he hated was getting gutter balls in four different rounds and ending with a measly score of 37 while Felix and Dimitri laughed at him. “I don’t hate bowling,” he chuckled as he idly brushed strands of crimson hair out of his eyes. “But I do hate seeing you so bummed out.”

She placed the empty ice cream container on the table and curled up against him. “Can we just stay here for a little while?” her voice sounded so small and far away.

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

And in the dying light of a since-ignored documentary playing on the TV, he briefly allowed himself to wonder what _something more_ with Ingrid would be like. Not much would change, except that everything would. They’d still go that diner down the street, but maybe she wouldn’t hit him if he tried to hold her hand, and maybe he wouldn’t have to fight the smiles that came so easily in her company out of fear of having to explain himself and ruin the good thing they’ve got. 

But the fact that she broke up with Ashe, who was good for her in all the ways that he was not, gave him pause. If he broke her heart, just like Ashe did, well… he found that too unsettling to think about. And when the faint sound of snoring tickling at his ears snapped him out of his reverie, he pushed the thought away and carried her to her bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this! Feedback and comments are appreciated!
> 
> I don't really intend to write a lot of AU stuff since I don't have a ton of ideas for it, but I made the series anyway just because I thought the name was really dumb and I wanted to save it.
> 
> This was a new type of challenge for me since a modern AU requires transporting established characters to a new setting while still keeping important aspects of them that define who they are. I hope I did an adequate job with that.
> 
> And Sylvain really just likes pizza and pizza-flavored stuff.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
